


Make You Mine

by sunshinekat



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Sam is conflicted, rafe and nadine have an understanding, rafe would not survive in prison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:25:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinekat/pseuds/sunshinekat
Summary: Rafe doesn't understand the kind of man that prison made Samuel into. Samuel doesn't either, these desires weren't there before. Both of them meet in the middle, what's that saying? "Love is blind, but friendship closes it's eyes." rafe/sam, some slight nadine/rafe





	1. Chapter 1

a/n there is not enough sam/rafe and you gotta be the change you wanna see in the world. 

He hadn’t thought about it in a long time. What the world looked like outside of a cell. Rafe must have noticed, he must have seen beneath the smiles and casual swagger, the sardonic commentary. All shields to hide behind, he’d been presumed dead, he’d given up on ever getting out years ago. This, all of this was inconceivable. 

Rafe walks on egg shells around him in Scotland, Sam can tell, he sees how Rafe acts with his men, demanding, bordering on petulant, despite what he might say about it. His relationship with Nadine is one of necessity, Rafe however, hadn’t quite gotten that message though. 

Sam doesn’t know if he likes the cold, he knows he hates the food. Thanks whatever god exists for the Shoreline cooks and their endless supply of steaks that make their way to his dish every night. Every, awkward night with Nadine glowering across the table from him eating her steamed vegetables and tofu. Rafe at the head of the table looking over plans and printed out pages of tablets. It pains him to see Rafe flounder the way he does, the answers looking him in the face and he just...can’t...see them. 

He doesn’t want to embarrass Rafe now, he’ll mention it later, the clues he’s missing. He hates himself for thinking like that sometimes, that he’ll take Rafe aside, out of sight from Nadine’s critical gaze and quietly scold-no, educate him. He’s so determined, so full of...ambition. Sam remembers that ambition was what drove him to Rafe in the first place, both of them young, grinning with the whole world at their feet. The man he had been would hate how he was now, cautious, careful, terrified of somehow waking up and finding himself in the dark, the only light reaching him from beyond four iron bars. That hunger he’d felt for Avery’s treasure was alive in him, somewhere, like a light flickering. He had to get it back but...but when he saw Rafe, when he saw Nadine he just didn’t have the energy for it. 

So he focused on his steak, focused on finishing this one task and when dinner was finished, the awkward small talk and when Nadine was out of earshot he’d put Rafe on the right track. 

Nadine’s phone goes off, she pushes her plate and fixes Sam with a glare and gets up to leave and answer it. 

Sam turns to Rafe looking over a page of...oh no, that was not- Okay. He pulls the page from Rafe who catches the end and stops him, “I was reading that Samuel.” 

Sam shakes his head, “No, no you weren’t,” he leans over and pulls the page that Rafe had pushed into the discard pile, “You’re reading this one.” He doesn’t want to explain it, doesn’t want to make Rafe feel stupid. But from the look on Rafe’s face as he lets the page go and looks over the one Sam pushed to him, he may have already done that. 

Nadine comes back in, “I have to go, I’ll be back in a few days.” Rafe barely looks up from his paper, looking it over with newfound interest. 

“Well have a safe trip-”

Nadine’s gaze zooms in on him sharply, “Hmph, don’t screw anything up while I’m gone Drake.” 

She’s gone then, Rafe doesn’t seem...bothered by it. Weird, weren’t they like...a thing? 

“Aren’t you gonna miss her?” 

Rafe scoffs, but doesn’t look up from his paper. Sam notices the untouched dinner and the half-empty glass of coffee. 

Sam hated to call himself smart, hated it. But what he had, the instinct for this whole profession. Rafe didn’t have it. He had to try twice as hard to achieve what Sam and...And Nate did naturally. Sam from his adventures following his mom through old ruins and Nate from Sam and Sully’s guidance. 

If it weren’t for the fire that Rafe had burning him alive, he’d be another socialite. Exactly the kind of person Sam hated. 

“Nadine does what she wants, I don’t preoccupy myself with what she does on her own time. As long as it doesn’t get in my way.” Rafe offers as explanation. He’s leaning back, away from the paper, away from the gas lamp lighting the words. He stretches and Sam’s gaze follows the line of his body. Tight black shirts in this cold? No thanks. He thinks about prison when he and Rafe are alone. He can’t help it, 13 years in a prison will do that to you. Nadine Ross was beautiful, terrifying but beautiful. Her long limbs, strength, that sharp gaze would work for him if she were so inclined. But he doesn’t have what she needs, Rafe does. 

Rafe has a lot of what people need it seems. 

Rafe is leaning back in his chair eyes closed facing the roof of the tent and his shirt rides up revealing the pale skin along his lower belly. 

Sam looks away, “Might wanna rest your eyes...” Sam says, trying to fill the emptiness. Rafe sighs, “I need more coffee.” He gets up and walks to the coffee maker in the corner of the room. 

Sam finishes his steak, content to put something in his mouth and occupy his thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desire is a one way road to hell.

a/n writing sam and rafe is definitely harder than i thought. thanks for the kudos! :)

Sam isn’t sure why their convoy had a gym, or why Shoreline was running drills every morning but it was probably Nadine’s idea. You didn’t get a body like that by just sitting around.

They have a tent on the far side of the main camp, it’s small and has a few machines. When they have a slow day, or a demolition day Sam goes in and gets to work. He’d asked Nadine for permission of course, didn’t want her lieutenant coming in and pitching a fit about Sam throwing his weights. He goes early in the morning, follows the same routine he had back in prison. Or he wakes up from the nightmares and decides to stay awake instead, be productive.

The gym isn’t insulated so it’s cold as hell, he has a jacket and some fitness leggings to put on under his shorts. He feels ridiculous, warm, but ridiculous. He finishes his stretches and heads to the tent, dark green and hidden away under the nearby brush. He walks over the make shift dirt path created by Shoreline’s drills, directing himself to the entrance that hung open, the loose flap moving slowly in the morning breeze.

He enters and the temperature doesn’t change, but he’s alone. It’s more than he usually gets, often times there are people in here and it’s busy, like a real gym. Not that he’s been to one of those in a while. But he’d prefer to be alone, or not...he doesn’t like to think about it too much. He heads to the treadmill and busies his thoughts with the treasure, where to find it, how to find it and he tries to bring back the fire and passion he had all those years ago. But for some reason the only thing that enters his head at 5am in the morning, out of breath, heart pounding, sweat building... Is the swath of skin under Rafe’s tight black t-shirt, the almost invisible beauty marks littered along his jawline. The way his hair comes undone when he’s mad, how he moves it back into place with a swipe of his hand. His sharp hazel eyes and arrogant grin.

The man that Sam Drake used to be would hate what he’s become.

Sam bits his lip hard, trying to force those thoughts out of his head. When he’d first left prison the first thing Rafe did was take him to a bar, told him he’d reserved a room nearby. Sam stared at him for a long time when he said that, And Rafe caught on, shaking his head with a laugh and patting Sam’s shoulder. “Not like that, but hey you’re at a bar in Panama, there’s bound to be a cute girl who wants to fuck an ex-con Sammy.”

There might’ve been. Sam never found one. He didn’t find anybody for those first six days when he got out. All he found was a hot bath, a soft bed and the bottom of a bottle. He would have stayed there too if Rafe hadn’t been so...Rafe about it. Showing up in a fucking limousine in that part of town, dragging a hung over Sam into the back to meet Nadine, who had been reaming one of her lieutenants out. She’d looked at him like he was an insect, he’d been angry at first, but soon came to realize that Nadine was like that with everyone, he wasn’t special. She could be different with Rafe depending on how he treated her. Which varied depending on the time of day.

He hadn’t thought about Rafe in that way for a few weeks now, thought he’d gotten over it. Thought it was his time inside talking. 13 years in prison, he had done...things with other men. He hadn’t been forced, he kept to himself so the guards left him alone once it became clear he was not going to escape. But year after year and nothing, no visitors, no communication with the outside world. He needed an escape, however brief. Sometimes it was with a random cell mate, somewhere dark, a hot hand on him, his own hand digging into loose pants and wrapping his fingers around a stranger’s cock. Closing his eyes and thinking of nothing but the sweet burn of their touch, matching his breath to follow theirs. It was need, it was loneliness. He craved the touch of another person so badly he did what he had to do to get it.

And when Rafe, Rafe fucking Adler walked into that prison and handed the new warden a check after thirteen years inside. After walking out in clothes that barely fit him anymore and sitting across from the man who was at fault, who had stabbed the previous warden and actually started the crazed escape attempt that had put him there in the first place. He was so fucking smug, there was no apology, there was no relief, there was nothing to indicate that Rafe had done this out of the good of his heart. No, five minutes into Sam getting in the car and realized he wasn’t sweltering because of the air conditioning, he brings up Avery. It hurt, it hurt a lot but the sky outside was huge and while Rafe busied himself explaining in great detail that it took him 13 years to figure out what Sam already knew, Sam watched the trees go by, the blazing sun setting low in the sky painting it in huge swipes of orange, red and purple.

He didn’t want Rafe.

Sam slowly came down from the run, the machine slowing the pace to a brisk walk. The only sound right now was his breath coming out heavy and hard.

He didn’t _want_ Rafe.

a/n sam's prison dlc when? 


	3. Chapter 3

A/n thanks for all the comments guys! this is still a wip so it may be slow updating. 

“Spot me, Sam.”

There’s no request there, like everyone else Rafe orders around he expects Sam to do as he’s told. “Go to prison Sam” “Get out of prison Sam”, “Get Avery’s treasure for me, Sam”. He’d gone through so much introspection in the past ten minutes that actually being in front of Rafe right now pissed him off. Not normal pissed him off, he was ranging between wanting to choke the little bastard and pushing him down and fucking his brains out.

But he can spot him, he can be an adult. Rafe lays down on the bench and Sam settles the bar following Rafe’s grip, listening to his breaths, in, in, in and Rafe lifts, Sam doesn’t help as much as he guides the bar upward listening to the tension in the metal for any slippage, any indication that Rafe can’t handle it so he can stop it from falling and crushing his ribs.

For fifteen minutes he does this, listens to Rafe’s breathing, his soft, strained grunts. He looks straight ahead at the plain green wall of the tent because if he looks down he doesn’t know what he might do. Rafe’s pale face coated in sweat, hair mussed, cheeks flushed with exertion.

“So,” Rafe starts, “You wanna fuck Nadine right?”

Sure. What?

“No!” Sam says, gripping the bar stopping Rafe midway, “What? How...did I say that I did? Because I don’t.”

Rafe laughs at him, slipping from under the bar and sitting up, leaving Sam to lower the bar and remove the weights. He watches Sam silently while he does it.

Sam tries to think about what to do, did he say anything about wanting to fuck Nadine? He would, for sure, she was spectacular, but this was Rafe’s partner, girlfriend, wife, relationship.

He meant to say, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

What he did say was more along the lines of, “I would rather do you.”

Rafe was drinking from his water bottle at that point and choked. Sam sputtered, “Sorry!, that was not what I meant to say.”

Rafe wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and shrugs, “I didn’t think it was, Sam.”He brushes it off like it was insignificant, there aren’t words for the emotion that this pries from Sam.

Rafe gets up and heads for the treadmill. Sam doesn’t have anymore words, exhausted beyond belief of everything in his life at this point. He stares at Rafe’s ass in his work out pants anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

A/n thanks for the kudos and the comments everyone!

Sam’s smoking was bad in prison, but in a place like that cigarettes are more currency than luxury, so he’s actually gotten worse since getting out. Pity Shoreline has to be stingy and they lock them all away somewhere, only person with the key is of course the one person who completely despises him. Nadine. She is running drills, pacing behind her shoreline soldiers, fixing their form, their grip, snarling at anyone disobeying her. Nadine doesn’t hate him, he knows that, she finds him a nuisance, yes, but she doesn’t hate him. She also keeps the key to the cigarette locker on her at all times.

He approaches slowly, waiting for her to turn around and see him coming, he’s not getting another elbow to the jaw this time.

“Ah, Drake. What do you want?”

Sam rubs the back of his neck, “Nadine, hey...” he glances down at her, and wonders how someone so tiny can inspire so much terror and arousal in him.

“Just spit it out.” she snaps, her shark eyes catching someone behind Sam doing something wrong.

“Smokes, you got the key.”

Nadine shakes her head, “I left it with Rafe, go bother him for your cancer sticks.”

Something must have shown on his face, something must have betrayed what he was thinking.

She tilts her head to the side, curls bouncing cheerfully, opposite the cat-like gaze she puts on him. “Something on your mind Drake? Not in the mood for licking the boot today?” She smirks and it’s a wonderful look on her.

“No...not really.” Sam says with a shrug, he puts his hands in his pockets, trying to stay focused, “Is there a second key?”

“We only have one key because smoking is a privilege that is earned, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Rafe but if you want your smokes you’ll have to go through him.”

Sam sighs, he was really hoping she’d be on his side for once. “And where is Mr. Adler?”

Nadine’s still smirking, clearly finding Sam’s use of Rafe’s name amusing, “Where he always is, the church.”

She walks away before Sam can say anything, that poor merc with bad form though, he was about to regret getting up this morning.

Sam heads to the church to get the key, he steels himself and doesn’t know why.

The cathedral is massive, black stone reaching up to the sky in huge spires. The wind blew harshly through the bare windows and howled through the cracks in the high ceilings. In the center of altar before the pews was Rafe’s ‘area’. He didn’t have all the knowledge he needed embedded in his brain from obsessively researching pirates at a young age like Sam did, he needed a space for all his old books, maps and relics. It included a blender, mini fridge, microwave and a yoga mat too, but that was just Rafe’s spoiled rich kid showing.

Rafe was sleeping at his desk when Sam got to the altar, the sound of the waves hitting the cliffs far below probably incited that, of course it could just be the research. Sam wasn’t surprised that Rafe found pirate history...less than invigorating. After all, looking through pages and pages of prison records for one man’s name was tedious. Rafe had his arms tucked under his head, a half empty cup of coffee sitting untouched, the gas-lamp placed at the end of the desk making the shadows in his face flicker. The key to the locker was next to the cup, all Sam had to do was snatch it up and get his smokes from the tent outside and bring it back, simple lift, he’d done so many of those in his life it was crazy to experience such hesitation at the thought of disturbing Rafe.

What was crazier was the thought of running his fingers through Rafe’s hair, finding out what texture it was, running his fingers over Rafe’s cheek and jaw, down his neck, into his shirt, running the tip of his tongue along the edge of his ear, feeling Rafe’s breath on the side of his neck where his tattoos were. That was crazy.

Sam took the keys and left without making a sound.


	5. Chapter 5

a/n thanks for the comment and kudos~ have a stressed rafe, smug nadine and fugitive sam :3

Rafe hated being late, but today nothing had been going right for him. He was late meeting with the investors, wishing he’d just let his secretary take care of the meeting. He only had so much time to take care of the family business while handling such delicate research. Nevertheless, it was taken care of. Or it had been when said secretary woke him up from a blissful sleep to tell him he was late. He shut the laptop and pushed it to the side looking at his coffee cup sitting empty. He’d make a fresh batch in a minute, now that the meeting was over he could focus on his research. He stood up and went to the keurig stacked neatly on the mini-fridge. After putting in a shoreline labeled Peruvian blend cup and snapping the top of the machine shut he put his mug under and waited for his life blood to pour out of the spicket.

“Oy, Rafe.” Nadine calls walking toward his desk, Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose feeling a headache approaching. “Nadine,” he says pleasantly, “Such a pleasure, how can I help you?”

Nadine makes a disgusted sound, “Right, where’s the keys to the smoke locker?” She places her hand out waiting for him to hand it to her.

“Right, it’s here just-”

It’s not. He’s staring at his desk where he swore he’d left the key before the meeting. Or was it after? It had been there for sure. He gives Nadine a puzzled look, and she responds with a sigh, “Ah, wait, was Sam here? He was asking me for it a few hours ago.”

He wasn’t about to tell her that he got caught napping and lost the keys, he wasn’t about to deal with how insufferable she’d be if she found out.

“Yes, he absolutely was, I was just about to get him.” Too late, she was smirking hard, like she knew some deep dark secret.

“If you’ll excuse me, Nadine, I’m going to go and find Samuel and let him know that you need those keys back.”

Nadine crossed her arms over her chest, “You do that.”

Insufferable.

He’d searched the gym, the mess hall and the range and the damn cigarette locker. He’d called him on the radio and Sam never picked up. Rafe wanted to say it was typical. But Sam had been acting a bit weird lately, as weird as he could be. Sam used to be more relaxed, not so tense, uptight and quiet. Always watching, never...really there. He remembered Sam when he first met him trying to cut the breaks on his car for buying him out an an auction. Arrogant, passionate, daring. All the things that Rafe wasn’t, he’d been a collector then, never daring to really take it the extra mile and go out to these places. Always buying, never stealing.

Sam showed him how rewarding it felt, to take and own something, showed him what it was like to walk into a room filled with history, where even the air tasted like a different era.

He’d shown him loss too, by not trying hard enough to survive their escape, showed him regret when he found out he was still alive. Hands clammy and shaking when he put the phone down, fifteen hundred to get Sam out without an issue. In days, he’d see him again and his search would finally flourish and the years spent on this venture would be worth it.

He wanted that daring, unhinged adventurer back. Wanted to see the look on his face when Rafe showed up and told him to get in the car.

Reality has it’s way of rearing it’s ugly face at the most inopportune moments, and he felt awful, awful, awful for not trying harder to locate Sam in that prison.

Haggard was one word to describe it, tired, beaten down. Still handsome, still charming and funny. But that passion, that wild heart was gone.

Rafe wanted it back, tried to fix it, like a broken toy. As a solution, he looked to himself, and when he looked the way that Sam did walking out of that building, it took a pretty girl and a lot of liquor to get him back to normal.

He expected Sam would like to enjoy some of the old joys of the outside world, so he reserved a room, and took him to the bar so he could drink and fuck away whatever he was going through.

But it didn’t work, and no matter what he did he couldn’t get that goddamn look off his face, that shadow in his eyes that showed itself only when Sam thought nobody was watching. And now, in Scotland, surrounded by ruins, by the skeletons of long dead pirates and even the goal of seeing Libertalia, of seeing Avery’s lost treasure wasn’t enough to take back 13 years in prison.

It only got worse since then, now Sam was acting even more strange around him. He’d been acting distant as of lately, Rafe thought it was jealousy regarding Nadine and she just laughed when Rafe brought it up. Something about crushing Sam’s throat under her boot if he even looked at her wrong. But that was Nadine. She was straightforward and blunt. Sam used to be like that, so blunt it hurt. And now he was hidden away behind this person who was tired of adventure who put minimal effort into the most basic of tasks he’d been asked to do.

Stealing the locker key and running off with a pack of cigarettes had been the most effort he'd put into anything since coming here. Rafe was not going to let this go, when he found Sam he was going to get to the bottom of it.


	6. Chapter 6

a/n thanks for the kudos guys! :3

About forty-five minutes had passed before Rafe found him. Sam was sitting by the cliffs, watching the overcast sky, carton of cigarettes sitting open in the dirt, the stark white package wrinkled from his use.

Rafe was going to say something snarky about the smoking, that he shouldn’t have a carton because it’s against regulation. That Shoreline is paying for those, if he says that Sam will laugh and say something snarky back and maybe they will go back to normal again.

But Rafe doesn’t know if he wants to have that conversation, doesn’t know if finding Sam here, alone, is something he should be doing. He doesn’t know what to say, or do for this man who took his friend away. And he doesn’t know who else to blame for that but himself.

Sam knows he’s there, so Rafe goes to sit beside him, he reaches out past the box of cigarettes and picks up the locker key allowing it to jingle with it’s chain before putting it in his pocket.

“I was gonna bring it back.” Sam says, voice low almost taken away by the crashing of the waves.

Rafe glances at him, his chestnut brown hair messy from the ocean winds, his eyes still watching the horizon, the birds on his throat looked like they hurt. He wondered who painted them on him.

Was it someone that Sam cared about? Did he want them? He knew Sam hadn’t been with anyone since he left prison, did he leave someone behind there? If Rafe got them out would he be back to normal again? Because he couldn’t turn back time, but if he could just fix Sam Drake, he’d consider everything squared away.

“What was their name?” Rafe asks.

Sam glances at him, confused, “Who?”

“The...person you left in Panama.”

Sam’s eyes go wide, cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, “What?”

“You can tell me, I don’t care...if you give me a name I can get them out just like I got you out.”

Rafe hates the way it sounds but Sam was… Sam was clearly conflicted about something. And from what he knew about the Drake family, it’s that they were romantics.

“Get who out?” Sam asks, taking the cigarette and putting it out on the rock, his gaze is unreadable, “Who-” he bit his lip and looks Rafe in the eyes, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he says suddenly. Rafe stiffens glaring back hurt by the intensity in his words, after all he was going out of his way to offer this, kind was not something Rafe had ever considered himself.

“You’re being fucking dramatic, just tell me who it is, don’t make a show out of it.”

“What are you talking about Rafe? You’re just gonna spring someone else out of prison? Is that what you do? You like throwing your weight around and spending money on more ex-con pets is that it?”

Rafe scoffed, “Oh please, I’ve given you everything I could think of, and none of it’s making you happy so I’d be grateful if you’d just tell me what the hell you want!”

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, Rafe’s gaze followed his fingers long and graceful pushing through the soft locks of his hair. “Jesus...you need to go.” he says his voice hard as ice, “You need to go now.”

Rafe hadn’t seen him this angry in a long time, he knew now that his approach had touched a nerve. But honestly, it wasn’t that serious, what was actually a problem was Sam’s behavior, his distraction was starting to affect his work. But Rafe wasn’t going to deny that it was strangely enticing to get a rise out of him.

“I don’t care if you’re gay, Sam. If you...had a partner back in prison I get it, you were alone...we can get them out.”

He’d intended to sound like he cared about this invisible man that loved Sam Drake. It was clearly not coming off that way from how Sam was staring at him.

Sam looked at him then, “You sure about that Rafe?” He laughed darkly, “Because I got around. If I could count them on one hand I would buddy, but Jesus, it gets desperate, and it’s so hot at night, you’d do anything to make it better.” Sam moves closer, “Do you know what that’s like?”

Rafe’s brain is scrambled at this point. He might have just reminded Sam of some awful event, and he was just lashing out- but at the same time he’s trying not to think about Sam’s hands on another man, unnamed, soft, warm pressed against him. Sam’s face was getting closer, Rafe held his breath, confused and not really listening to what Sam’s saying at this point.

Something in Sam’s eyes changes, as if he’d noticed he’d crossed a line somewhere. Rafe knows this too, deep down that he’d crossed that line first. But they can’t just drop the conversation here, Rafe opens his mouth to speak,

“Jesus, Rafe calm down.” Sam says his mouth turning up in a smirk, “I’m fucking kidding. Sorry for stealing your smokes,” He leans back, all easy humor as if the previous conversation had never happened, “Man, you got me out here dealing with these thugs and it’s pretty damn exhausting at times.” Rafe starts to get up, dazed from the whiplash that Sam was giving him, illicit images of him still vivid in his brain, the keys jingling in his pocket.

This was _not_ worth enduring Nadine’s smugness.

He glances at Sam who still hadn’t moved, who was sitting and watching the ocean like he wanted to be there, floating in the middle of the massive waves.

“Don’t steal from me again, Sam.”

“Sure thing boss.”


	7. Chapter 7

a/n thanks for the comments and kudos errybody! 

The demo crew is sent to investigate the cemetery a few miles away from the cathedral. It’s outside of the search zone, and getting Rafe’s approval to look into what he and Nadine considered a ‘hunch’ was like pulling teeth. Nadine sends two of her guys to look for the dates and a pirate flag insignia that Sam found in another set of Rafe’s discarded notes. Nate never would have questioned him, the kid would have gone up there and dragged Sam with him, eyes bright with excitement. All these years searching were only making Rafe bitter and Nadine had lost her patience a while ago. 

Sam was cautious around them now, since the cemetery was big and required people who knew how to at least read to look up the dates and images he’d provided. But Nadine was giving him that look again, like she was itching for a fight and ready to break someone’s nose. And Rafe was...well, he was texting on his phone, in 40 degree weather watching Nadine’s men set up his ‘area’. It was like those Hollywood movies where the rich girl goes on a plane trip for a weekend some place and brings all her luggage with her like she’s stayin’ a whole month. 

He wasn’t sure why, but he thought that this was something Rafe could do without. If he could just...let go of all of that shit and got down into the nitty gritty of it he’d realize that what they were looking for, what they were really trying to find here wasn’t in his books. 

He thought about their last conversation, about his misunderstanding. Trying to act like taking a man out of prison was easy. Like he hadn’t been one in a million, like he hadn’t spent all that time living moment to moment not sure if someone was going to shank him, or if that would be the day that the guards decided they wanted to have some fun and go too far. He’d found his comforts sure, unlike some men he’d seen in there they had at least been consensual. 

He was lucky to be here, there were men in there he knew who were never getting out. That damn prison was going to be their grave. 

Rafe’s offer was- it came from a good place he supposed, but it still made him want to punch him in the face. Fucking rich little piece of shit. 

Sam knew that Nadine held those same frustrations, and while he recognized that it didn’t mean that she wasn’t ready to break Sam’s arm at any given moment. 

Rafe was walking around like a peacock snapping and pointing fingers, and Sam glanced over and saw Nadine walking toward him. He instantly fixed his face into a placid mask. Smiled politely when she arrived, she curled her lip at him. 

“Watching the boss set up I see.” she says glancing derisively at Rafe. 

“Yeah...I don’t think he understands we’re probably doing a once over here and heading back to the site.” Sam rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t expect him the move the whole thing.”

“About that,” Nadine starts, “My men came up empty. There’s no date matching your documents.” 

Sam sighed, “Well shit,” he sees Rafe taking a man aside and talking in low, dangerous tones. “I’m gonna go have a look for myself if you don’t mind,” he glances at Nadine, “I’d appreciate it if you kept this update to yourself until I get back?” he hopes for a yes. 

Nadine shrugs, “He’s in a mood anyway, I’m not dealing with that, this was your idea so you get to give him the big news.” she smirks and Sam pinches the bridge of his nose at the twinge of agony pulsing behind his eyelids at the idea. “Yeah, don’t worry about it...I’ll...I’ll figure something out.” 

Sam headed to where the two Shoreline scouts were waiting. They were chatting and having a smoke break. He went up to them and asked for the paper. 

“What paper?” one guy asked. He glances at his partner who shrugs and says nothing. 

“I gave you guys the documents you needed with the dates.” Sam says with a frown.   
“Oh that? I left that in the campsite. Got fuckin’ crazy good memory.” 

“That so, and what were the dates you were looking for?” 

“1669-1699, and a gravestone with two swords making an x shape in front of a-”

“That’s it, thanks. I’ll just go get that paper. You left it by the campsite right?” 

“Yeah, by the church.” 

Not only did he have the date wrong, he had the tombstone design wrong, but he left the original paper a nice hour walk away from here. 

Sam held back the urge to jam his fist into the guy’s jaw. If only he didn’t have to deal with Nadine at the end of it. 

He turned on his heel, more than happy to deal with Rafe’s pissy mood than hear another word out of this idiot’s mouth. 

Rafe was no doubt in his warm little tent looking over his notes. 

He was almost to the entrance before Nadine grabbed his arm, “That was quick.” she says. 

Sam pulls his arm out of her grip, “Yeah, it happens when your men lose the transcript I gave them and some genius thinks he’s got the dates memorized.” 

Nadine’s eyes widen, “Wait, what?” 

Sam turns to her with his arms crossed, “You look surprised, I would think you’d know that your guys are better at blowing shit up than they are looking for dates on a fucking tombstone miss Ross.” 

Nadine’s eyes narrowed, “What the hell are you talking about Drake?” 

“Your guys over there? They don’t have the transcript I gave them and they left it at the church!” he snaps, “Just fucking left it, said he had it all memorized like he’s a damn genius that one-” he sweeps a frustrated hand through his hair, “I don’t know why the hell I’m even working with you people.”

Nadine for once wasn’t looking at him like she was going to tear out his throat, she looked...god she looked embarrassed. 

“I’ll get this sorted and have them look again.” she reaches behind her and hands him a key, “Don’t worry about bringing this to Rafe, I’ll talk to him. The locker’s been moved to the perimeter. Go have a smoke.” 

The cool metal of the key in his hand was a slight balm on his mood, but his frustration was still there. He was still too upset to appreciate how civil Nadine was being. That is until he saw her walk up to the two men from earlier and slam her fist into the smart guy’s jaw. 

A woman after his own heart.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N thanks for all the kudos and comments!

The cemetery had turned up nothing. Hours of searching the areas around the grave resulted in nothing, it was just another grave by the cliff-side. That alone, after months and months of nothing and finally finding a possible clue and still coming up empty was a blow to Sam’s pride. So it was back to sullen glares from Nadine, and cold disdain from Rafe. When Sam thinks back to their conversation on the cliff, Rafe’s assumptions about him, about his life in prison, and his own words on the matter. It made his behavior worse, and with the summer coming to an end soon, winter would be closing in and it would be difficult to stay in the area. They might have to wait until the thaw before trying again.

The mood in the new camp is hostile, so Sam wanders the cemetery for more clues, anything that might indicate something he missed. Because it was clear he’d missed something, regardless of him being enemy number 1 at the camp right now. And he thinks Nate would know, he had an eye for shit like this, with that thought the guilt comes back full force, Sam stands in front of Avery’s grave staring at the sea beyond, listening to the crash of the waves. Nate would know, he would have loved this, would have been thrilled to get a chance to look at this site. But he was...was somewhere in the states working what...salvage? He was out now, and this world, this dream they had when they were kids was just that to him. A dream.

Sam had never thought much of himself, his only value was being able to protect his little brother. That had been ripped away from him when he fell off that ledge, his last memory being Nathan’s terrified expression and the deafening echo of gunfire in the distance.

He didn’t deny his instinct to care for others still translated toward people in his current state. Prison had scraped a lot of his old self away, but that part had survived, a little mutilated maybe but mangled as it was it urged him to do the right thing.

As he stood by the grave, watching the grey ocean he thought about whether or not it was worth it.

“Still won’t give up?” Sam turns and sees Rafe coming up the hill. He’s bundled up in a black winter coat, scarf and wool hat on his head, it covered the tips of his ears. Seeing him so warm reminded Sam about how cold he felt in his own wool lined jacket, cold wind rushing through his hair, scraping against the tips of his own ears numbing them.

“Can’t do that, it’s the grave, THE grave, Rafe, if there’s anything in this whole area it’s gonna be centered around this thing.”

Rafe came up to stand beside him, glaring down at the grave like it had done him personal harm. “Never thought I’d see a Drake stumped by a grave of all things.”

Sam chuckles, “Yeah, me neither.”

“Makes me wonder why I keep you around, maybe I should call Nate? Think he’d want to come and have a look?”  
That caught Sam’s attention, he glanced at Rafe’s face, his eyes were like cold steel, he wasn’t kidding. He’d drag Nathan into this, not just the search for Avery’s hoard but into Sam’s current state of being. Alive that is.

It was a threat.

“No need for that, I just need some time to look at this thing.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I’ve given you ample time to follow your theory. There’s a reason why I discarded the pages about this grave Samuel, it’s unsubstantiated and it’s taking us out of the actual search zone.”

Sam’s jaw tightened, patience, patience, he thought. “Why would you discard notes about Avery’s grave Rafe? It’s his fucking hoard?”

Rafe glowered at him, “Why would you send us on a wild fucking goose chase for this thing and then act surprised when there’s nothing here? Sometimes I think you’re trying to sabotage this venture Sam-”

Sam’s hand shot forward and he stopped himself at the last second, but Rafe took it as the attack it was and grabbed his wrist and in practiced motion flipped him on his back into the cold rocky ground. He knelt down, grip painfully tight on Sam’s wrist.

“Try again, Drake.” He snarls.

Fuck patience, he slams his fist in to Rafe’s face, dragging him down by his scarf as he flips them over. Rafe is a practiced, skilled martial artist, it only takes a second for Sam to hesitate before he’s got a leg over his shoulder and the other under his arm, Sam catches one ankle before he tries to lock it with his other, fingers gripping his calf, it’s another sudden distraction for Sam who is momentarily mesmerized by having Rafe under him again, hat askew, face flushed, their hips lined up just so. “Fuck it.” he mutters before leaning down and kissing Rafe firmly on the lips.

Rafe’s body freezes under his, his hands come up to Sam’s shoulders, fingers pushing him back, his eyes open in shock, his mouth unresponsive. Sam pulls back, and the separate, Rafe sits up, leaning heavily against the gravestone. Sam sits back a few feet away, he licks his lips and waits for the ensuing chaos.

Rafe is staring at him, “What was that?” he asks plainly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What’d it look like?”

“I was threatening you and you...you what? You think you can change my mind?” his face is flushing, painfully so. His gaze is bewildered, confused.

“Can’t change anyone’s mind with a kiss, but I thought I’d give it a try.”

Rafe’s glare could have lit the world on fire, Sam thought his reaction was...very Rafe-like. He portrayed this image of a tough, rich businessman who plays by his own rules. One kiss had him clutching his chest like he was going into cardiac arrest. That scandalized look on his face was unexpected but so goddamn rewarding.

“I’m straight Sam, Nadine and I-”

“Don’t start, it was just a kiss.” Sam intervenes, it annoyed him that Rafe brought her up, when they both knew, hell all three of them knew that Nadine and Rafe were partners of convenience, any attraction there was something more like a preying mantis with it’s next meal then anything close to a genuine relationship.

“Don’t- this is not...” Rafe stiffened against the gravestone. Sam crawled up to him, and he still didn’t move, he was like one of the cold stone status surrounding them. “Don’t worry Rafe, I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Rafe was staring at his mouth, his hands gripping the stone behind him, and this second kiss is better than the first. Sam doesn’t want to think about how much he’d been thinking about it. But he can taste hazelnut coffee on Rafe’s tongue, and he can picture more, can picture taking him here, right now. Rafe’s breathes are heavy, his expression a kaleidoscope of confusion, arousal and shame. Sam grasps the stone skull behind Rafe, doesn’t want to put it anywhere that might get him in trouble, might push Rafe too far. He feels a tug on his jacket, Rafe’s soft moan against his mouth as he finally starts to respond and the skull gives way, like a switch turning and the resulting rumble shocks them both apart.

Sam watches as the area next to them shakes apart as what looked like cobblestones sink into the ground forming a set of ancient stairs. Rafe’s flushed, dazed stare focused solely on him, fingers gripping his lapel like a lifeline. Sam’s mind pushed away all his doubts, all his worries, he was right. Holy shit he was _right_. This was gonna change everything.


	9. Chapter 9

a/n thanks for the kudos and comments!

It took them six hours to search the underground tomb. Nadine had Rafe and Sam hang back while she sent her men in to make sure the area was safe to enter. Rafe didn’t fancy falling off a cliff after finally finding something. 

This might be the most important discovery of the century. Or, it could have been. There was no way he was going to let it make it into any journals, the site would need to be destroyed to prevent anyone from following their trail. 

He found it only slightly regrettable, but when he thought about the goal, of finding Avery’s hidden cache, the need for it burned a hole in the center of his chest. 

Rafe glanced up from the plans that Nadine was showing him of the interior of the tomb, he saw Sam standing by a grave, leaning against it and staring out onto the sea. He would have to talk to him later, clear the air, it was just a kiss and it didn’t need to become a problem. 

“Drake more interesting than Avery?” Nadine asks suddenly knocking Rafe out of his introspection. He looks at her and then the plans. Her men needed to hurry up with securing the site, he needed to see this all for himself. 

“Not at all, do you have an eta on clearing it for entry?” Rafe counters, tired of her quick eye. Nadine smirked, “Fifteen minutes or so, don’t get testy. I thought you love birds were getting along now?”   
Rafe keeps his composure out of practice. Years of corporate parties and dealing with more than enough unpleasant and direct individuals had given him the ability to keep his facial features steady despite any unease. 

Kissing Sam Drake was not something that made him uneasy, it made him a little angry, frustrated almost. He couldn’t really discern why, but looking at Sam now made him antsy. 

“Define getting along?” Rafe asks. 

Nadine shrugs, “What does it matter? As long as you keep your head and focus on the goal I could care less what you two do.” 

She was right, as always. At the end of the day Sam was dispensable and if he became a problem or an obstacle he would have to go. It wouldn’t do to have any...attachments to make that situation more difficult than it needs to be. 

One of Nadine’s men rushes up the entrance face and walks over to them, “Ah ma’am-” 

Nadine turns, “What?” 

“Ma’am we have a problem.” 

Nadine stalks toward the man, Rafe follows more than tired of waiting. 

“What is it now?” Nadine asks exasperated, the man is looking at her breathing fast and uneven, “It’s the site, there is a structure preventing us from getting through, the men are lining it-”

They were suddenly interrupted by a deafening crash coming from the tomb, it was also audible from outside as if-

“You goddamn idiots!” Rafe snarls running toward the entrance and descending the stairs. 

Rafe doesn’t see or hear anyone following him down, but it doesn’t matter because for an underground tomb it was very bright in here. He walks past one of the stone corridors lined with old skeletons and when he sees it, there had been a structure here and it was gone, in it’s place was a gaping hole in the side cliff, all traces of what had been here crashing into the sea. 

Rafe stood in the rubble listening to the crash of the waves below, their first clue after years of searching, years. All gone. 

There’s a scrape of stone coming from the entrance, “Sweet jesus-” says a breathless voice. 

It was Sam, of course it was Sam. 

“Guess they saw a door and did what they do best.” Rafe says, feeling very much like he wanted to empty a rifle into every single man up there right now. 

Sam came to standing next to him staring at the mess that their shared discovery had become. 

Sam glances at him, “Maybe we should kiss, worked the first time didn’t it?” 

This was no time for jokes, Rafe almost said it, almost. He glances at Sam who is standing there, and he would have believed the stoic look, if he didn’t know him. 

“They might have video footage or something,” Rafe says, “Anything to indicate what was here before.” 

It doesn’t justify the destruction wreaked here, but they couldn’t go back in time.

Why bother? Rafe thinks, Sam Drake was here for a reason and it wasn’t to be comforted, he was a tool and tools outlive their usefulness eventually, there would be no turning back once it happened. 

Rafe felt a twinge of unease, he had discarded many who had filled this role, some had been lovers, others just associates, all of them useless in the end. 

Rafe couldn’t understand why Sam of all people couldn’t fit into that role? They have been acquaintances for years, and if he tried him out as a lover-

“You okay?” Sam asks and Rafe nods, finally understanding why he had never tried to get too close to Samuel Drake. 

He liked him. 

Fuck.


End file.
